


Violence in our Hearts

by ba_rabby



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Gen, Genital Mutilation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Terrorism, Violence, explicit sexual violence, implied sexual violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_rabby/pseuds/ba_rabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had not always been the 'masked man', the one they called Bane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story is derived from this quote by Mahatma Gandhi:  
> "It is better to be violent if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of nonviolence to cover impotence." 
> 
> My head-cannon is that Bane is not called such until later in his life and I've dug into DC lore and decided to refer to Bane as Dorrance for his younger life. Hope it's not too confusing. 
> 
> This is my first offering to the "Dark Knight Rises" fandom so I hope you enjoy. There are a lot of references to Romani/Romany and Arabic/Muslim culture. If I have portrayed anything inaccurately or disrespectfully please let me know and I will remedy it ASAP.

Act I

_"Without children, there is no luck"_

_-Roma proverb_

***

 

_"Mother's love is peace. It need not be acquired, it need not be deserved."_

_\- Erich Fromm_

 

Birthing looked a lot like dying, Dorrance thought. There was blood and shit and, as with death, there was violence in the act.

The woman was squatting barefoot on one of the chairs in her cell. Her _kaftan_ wasrolled up at the sleeves and bunched around her waist. Her brown legs were splayed allowing Mihai to feel for the thing inside of her striving for life.

Dorrance knew what birth was. A baby would come out from the woman's uterus. The books had told him that. However while Mihai, who was a doctor, claimed the books were anatomically accurate, they had neatly illustrated women, reclined and in cross-section. Their organs colour-coded, free of blood and other fluids. The textbooks, unsurprisingly, did not accurately portray the battle that birthing seemed to be. Mihai's books were beloved friends, but they were not always truthful, Dorrance knew that. They could not accurately describe what it was like to be struck in the head, nor the pain that comes from a broken arm.

The bottom half of the woman's _kaftan_ was discoloured from her body's fluids. Dorrance could fully understand, now, why lower body clothes were to be separated from the ones you wear over your torso. Her _kaftan_ was merely a long robe that she had eventually belted above her growing belly. It was so unlike the clothes Dorrance and Mihai chose to wear.  In the end though, she was not Romany, she was _gadji_ and had her own ways of doing things.

Dorrance also knew that women should be dealing with the birthing, but there was only he and Mihai to help. The woman threw her head back as she clenched her eyes. "Is he coming out? How much longer?" She had gone into labor early according to Mihai's calculations, but her water had broken long before and she had been pacing and moaning with labor for close to a day.

Mihai replied quietly, "I can feel him." He got down onto his knees and gestured for Dorrance to bring the lantern closer. "The baby is crowning. It won't be long now, but you have to push. Understand Melisande?"

Melisande shifted her stance and tilted her head up again. Her lips moved with words though no sound came out then she gave another much louder groan. "Oh. It's tearing. I feel…I'm tearing" Dorrance could see the baby now. The child's pale backside was ballooning out from Melisande's body.

"Mihai, he's the wrong..." Dorrance said in Romanes.

"Quiet." Mihai cut him off.

Melisande's dark eyes were on Dorrance then and through her pain they were sharp and alert. "What did he say? What is wrong?"

"Nothing." Mihai replied.

She looked ready to argue but another contraction must have begun because she clawed at her knees and went silent. Slowly the baby descended. The backs of its knees became visible and then a pair of rubbery legs dropped unceremoniously into Mihai's hands.

As he cradled the girl's legs and bottom his face bloomed into his first smile in days, "Oh Melisande! You're so close. Just a little more." Mihai ran a tawny thumb against the girl's skin, near the purple chord coming from her belly. Melisande made a shrill sound before the baby's arms dropped limply from her.

"Just a little more." Dorrance found himself saying, in Maghrebi this time.

Melisande's entire body tensed and then the baby was free. Its pointed head was covered in dark curls and its face was puffy.  For a moment Dorrance worried that baby was dead; it was so lax and pale. Then, the child took a deep gulp of air and wailed. It was a high, reedy sound and Dorrance's eyes widen.

The baby was covered in blood and white flakes, but Mihai handed her to Melisande who clutched the child greedily to her chest. She pressed her lips to her baby's ears and whispered into them as the girl's body stained the shoulder of Melisande's certainly ruined _kaftan_. Mihai then helped Melisande to her cot and instructed Dorrance to clean up the mess. He blanched, but Mihai wasn't paying him any attention.

Dorrance blotted the surfaces before taking some of the boiling water from the fire. After mixing it with a bit of soap he scrubbed the chair and the ground beneath it. On the other side of the cell Mihai was cleaning the baby and looking it over. He was a triage doctor more than anything, but he had his books and enough experience with blood and gore to be able to figure out child-birth. He had told Dorrance once, "The woman's body knows what to do. I will simply be there so she doesn't have to do it alone."

Now Mihai said to Melisande, "The child is small."

"Well, she is earlier than you predicted."

"Even still." Mihai replied. Dorrance did not have to look over to know that Mihai was frowning. "Make sure you feed _him_."

"Of course, Mateo."

Dorrance continued scrubbing, dumping the dirty water into the cell's latrine and replenishing it. When he passed near the bed, Melisande said, "And thank you Dorrance." He nodded and went back to cleaning.

After he had straightened the entire cell and the doctor had had a chance to wash his hands and arms, Mihai deemed it time for them to go. He informed Melisande that he would return to check on her after he'd gotten some sleep. Dorrance wondered why she hadn't begun feeding the baby yet, but let it pass as Mihai ushered him out of the cell. 

Dorrance couldn't contain his curiosity, he blurted in Romanes, "Why did you think she was too small?"

"He" Mihai replied and then shook his head indicating that it was not the place for conversation. They were passing through clusters of inmates now.

Dorrance waited until they reached Mihai's room and after the supplies had been put away he tried again, "Aren't babies supposed to be small?"

Mihai sat heavily on their cot and sighed, "Yes. But he is very small. I don't have anything to weigh him with, but even still. He was not very tall. Or long as the case may be for some time."

Dorrance's brows furrowed, "The baby was a girl. I saw its…"

"I know what you saw." Mihai snapped, "But as far as anyone is concerned, the child is a boy are we clear?"

"I don't understand."

Mihai glared at Dorrance as if he thought he was being intentionally thick. His expression softened marginally before he replied, "You saw how difficult the men were when it was just the woman in her cell. How bad do you think they'll be when they realize another girl is in there?"

"They've been away from the cell for a few days. I just thought they had…"

Mihai laughed and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, "What? Given up?" Dorrance nodded making Mihai snort, "I told them that while I was working, to keep away from her. I only let you come near her because you seemed so eager to help." In truth Dorrance had been eager to see life happen. He couldn't explain it to Mihai, but he'd seen death dozens and dozens of times in his thirteen years, but never the first moments of life. He had been painfully curious.

Mihai continued, "They'll be back within a week. Sniffing and yapping like jackals." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "As far as anyone is concerned the child is a boy. Boys can be protected here well enough." He nodded at Dorrance, "You're a testament to that. Girls are…trickier."

Dorrance took a moment to digest this. He said tentatively, "Well, no one can understand us. They don't speak Romanes. Even now, this conversation may as well be falling on deaf ears."

"I don't want to risk it. Don't think that they are completely oblivious to what we discuss. They pick up enough words to catch our meaning, the clever ones just don't show it. Besides, I don't want you getting into bad habits. Until the child is old enough to understand discretion, I have told Melisande to raise and treat him like a boy."

Dorrance nodded and left it alone. Mihai had never led him astray in matters of prison life, he wouldn't begin now. While they settled themselves for sleep in their shared cot, Dorrance couldn't help but wonder how he could refer to someone he knew to be a girl as a boy. What about when she got older and began to menstruate and develop into a woman? What then?

That night he had one of his recurring nightmares, the one that ended with a person with long black hair laying on the ground in an expanding pool of blood. This night, the person sat up and became Melisande clutching her daughter, but blood still dripped down from her hairline. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorrance meets baby Talia.

_"When one has not had a good father, one must create one."_

_-Friedrich Nietzsche_

 

Mihai visited Melisande many times over the next few days. He did not outright forbid Dorrance to join him, but when he was about to leave he would recommend a chapter from one of his text books or a short story among his fiction collection.

When Dorrance wasn't lost in the gardens of Mihai's library, he dealt with the inmates that came by. If someone came seeking medication, Dorrance would take care of the bartering. If anyone came seeking Mihai's aid or just to gossip, Dorrance would send them away saying "Mateo is with the new mother." 

Dorrance was certainly not staying there to keep watch over Mihai's belongings. Mihai was slight and older than most in the Pit but he had made it clear early on in his internment that he was not to be trifled with. Other inmates had told Dorrance stories of how Mihai would refuse to serve any inmate who attacked him or merely insulted or threatened him. Once, before Dorrance had come to the Pit, Mihai's cell had been ransacked by a group while he'd been away. Mihai had waited until the next supply drop, then locked himself inside his cell and refused to help any inmates until the ones who had stolen from him were punished and his possessions returned. Dorrance knew the way the bigger inmates, the ones who were all swagger and pointless cruelty, hated Mihai with his complicated words and small stature. But in the end, Mihai was skilled.  If you could trade with him you would probably live, or in the extreme cases die without suffering.

Mihai cared little for the politics and dynamics of prison life and his influence only extended to himself and his belongings. When Dorrance was lowered into the Pit, he was blanketed under those same rules. As long as he was within the cell or with Mihai, Dorrance was ignored. When he was alone in the Pit, he had his stuffed bear with the knife hidden inside when he was very little and as he got bigger he had a knife tucked into his belt. Now most of the men knew to leave him alone as he wasn't worth the fight, nor worth Mihai's displeasure.

 

Dorrance had once asked him why he had bothered to share his chambers and food with a toddler. Mihai had shrugged his lean shoulders and replied, " _Gadje Gadjensa, Rom Romensa._ The world gangs up on us, son," Mihai had scratched at the crooked, blue numbers tattooed onto his forearm, "you think I could leave a little Roma boy to this pit of _Gadjo_ in good conscience?"

"We may be Roma, but we aren't blood. I don't even know which _natsia_ my mother was from and who knows about my father." Dorrance had replied. When Mihai simply shrugged again Dorrance decided that it was not worth perusing and he should simply be grateful.

 

A week after the baby was born, Mihai returned from Melisande with a gold chain. "Where did you get that?" Dorrance asked.

"Melisande."

"But she already paid you. The salt and the funny smelling powders."

Mihai smirked, "You'll appreciate the spices once I have a chance to cook with them. I know you don't believe me, but they really can make any food taste good." He looked back at the chain, "No the chain was part of her birthing rituals."

Dorrance sat up straighter, "Oh?"

"Yes. The child's head is shaved now and Melisande said that she was supposed weigh the boy's hair and give an equal weight of gold to the poor. But she had no scale and we're all penniless here so she gave her penance to me." He shrugged, "This really is worthless down here, but it's beautiful. Probably heavier than the weight of a newborn's hair, though."

Dorrance held out his hand and Mihai placed the chain in it. It was light and the links were perfect, tiny ovals. "How does someone make rings this small? They must have fingers thin like an insect's."

Mihai chuckled as he put his medical tools away, "They make jewelry with machinery now."

Dorrance nodded. "Machinery" was practically synonymous with "magic". "Machines", "films", "electricity", "plumbing", they were all magic from the world above. Mihai could never fully explain them, for all his vast knowledge of the human body, and so they were relegated to fairytales in Dorrance's mind. Instead of questioning the chain's origins further he asked, "Will she baptize the child?"

"No."

"But, why not?"

"Muslims do no do that. They have other ways to welcome their children, prayers and gifts and such," he gestured at the chain.

Dorrance nodded and let his attention fall back to the chain. Since Dorrance had been sent to the Pit as a toddler, Mihai had instilled in him the basics of _Romanipen_ , but the people of the Pit were diverse in their customs and they tried not to judge. Moreover, while maintaining purity was a noble aim, it was difficult to adhere to one's customs in the Pit where there was no flowing water or when you had to fast frequently because there was a famine.

Over the years, Dorrance got the impression that the laxity of Mihai's adherence to the tenets of _Romanipen_ grated on him as it did any other men sent down here who were devout in their beliefs. Dorrance found himself pleased that the woman was at least attempting to stay with her traditions. Often those who most quickly discarded their cultural rules or had been sent to the Pit because they broke taboo were the ones to be most wary of.

 

A month after the baby was born Dorrance managed to get a moment away from Mihai's cell to visit the her. It was very loud at the moment, but Dorrance found the crying fascinating.  He hung back watching Melisande rock back and forth on her cot cooing at the child and bouncing it against her chest. Despite the distraction of the baby's cries Melisande spotted him, "Have you brought the medicine from Mateo?"

Dorrance shook his head, "He did not give me anything."

Melisande sighed. "Well what do you want then?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to see…"

Melisande sneered then, "What, see my breasts when I feed my child? Get away from here boy. You are just like the rest."

Dorrance stepped back hands raised placatingly, "No, I just wanted to see the baby." He paused, "But does food really come out of your chest?"

The baby had settled slightly and Melisande's attention was focused on it again until it had settled enough to be put down on the cot. She kept her hand on its back and she narrowed her dark eyes in contemplation, "Come here, boy."

Dorrance scurried over to the bars of her cell. The baby was huffing and frowning, but it was quiet. "Why was he crying?"

"She…he is just fussy."

"What does that mean?"

"He is… easily disturbed."

"Oh."

They sat in silence while Dorrance observed the child. It's skin was much paler that it's mother's and it hands were minuscule, perhaps small enough to craft fine chains. "Where did you get that necklace?" Melisande asked sharply.

Dorrance touched the gold chain around his throat, "Mateo said I can wear it." When she didn't say anything he continued, "I share his cell with him."

"What about the red one?" she asked.

"This?" he tugged on the red chord around his throat "Mateo gave it to me when I first came here. Well, he gave me one like it. I replace it when it wears out." He caressed the string. "Roma fathers wrap a chord around their children's necks after their born."

"Mateo is your father?"

"Oh no. I don't know who my father was. But Mateo was the only person who could understand me when I first came here. So he took care of me. I'm lucky, other men would have…." Dorrance grimaced. " Mateo knows what he's doing. He was training to be a doctor, you know. He's very knowledgeable."

"Yes. I am grateful for his help." Melisande's fingers ran over the baby's bare back. "Tell me, what did your mother think when you were sent here?"

"I don't know. I don't remember her."

"She died when you were little?"

Dorrance shrugged, "Perhaps. I was sent here when I was very little, so maybe she died, I don't know."

"Why were you sent here?"

"I don't know exactly." Dorrance scratched the back of his neck, "Mateo said the guards said my father had done something and had escaped his sentence. So I was sent in his place. Don't look so sad. I am content here. Mateo feeds me, and there are books and the men can't catch me, I'm too good at hiding, so I can sneak around to get what I need. And now you're here with the new baby."

Melisande did not reply for a long moment, "Don't you want more than that?"

"Not really. Mateo says _Few desires, happy life_ so I try not to want anything more. So I can be happy."

"You've never tried to escape?"

"No. I've seen--" Dorrance shuddered, "Few men fall from the wall unscathed. They get taken to Mateo, so I have always seen those injuries. I don't want to get hurt like that. Besides, what will happen to Mateo and you and the baby if I am killed?"

Melisande gave a surprised laugh, "Why should that matter to you what becomes of us?"

"Mateo said that mothers and children are to be cared for."

"You are but a child yourself."

"I am not! I'm nearly fourteen."

"Most of the men here are twice you age."

"That doesn't matter." Dorrance leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm not stronger than them yet, but I'm faster. And Mateo says I'll probably be big like Raif and Bancole if I keep eating properly."

"I don't know those men."

"Oh. They're…” He tried to think of an easy way to describe the pair, “Have you seen the big dark man with the missing fingers?" Melisande shook her head, "What about the old one. His skin is, maybe a little lighter than your and has white hair and a crooked nose. Both of them are massive."

"No I have never seen such men."

"Oh. Well. They probably don't come around here often."

"Probably." Melisande suddenly gave a curious smile, "So? How do you intend on caring for me and my child, young man?"

"Well. I…" Dorrance hadn't expected her to ask outright, "I can wash. Mateo said you can't leave your cell, so I can take your washing and help with that and we can cook you food if you need us to. There's not a lot of wood and fuel so it makes sense to share. And…" He racked his brain for another way to help, "I can teach the child. I know a lot of things now and Mateo is sometimes busy after a fight or something. So I can teach her…"

"Him."

"Him, the different languages here. I know anatomy and some biology. And I know maths."

"That is a very kind offer. Thank you. Though I know mathematics as well."

"Alright. What about biology."

"That, I am not as familiar with."

"Then I can teach you both. Mateo has many books and we can read them together."

"Yes. That would be good. Thank you." She smiled at him, "Mateo seems like a very good man."

Dorrance could not help but beam back, "Yes. I don't know what I would have done without him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vignettes of Talia's early childhood in the Pit.

_"Seeking knowledge at a young age is like engraving in stone."_

_\- Hasan al-Basr_

 

Babies were a lot of work. Dorrance washed the soiled diapers and returned them to Melisande once a day. She did not leave her cot often so was immensely grateful for his help. Melisande had food stored away in her cell and ate frequently but Dorrance knew from his books that it was not enough. Lactating mothers needed a lot of food to feed the baby so he made a point of catching a rat or two a week to add to the stews he and Mihai shared with Melisande.

The baby was still fussy though. Any little noise would set her wailing. Some of the inmates would slam on Melisande's cell bars and order her to shut the child up. For the most part she ignored them and if Mihai was nearby when it happened he would chase the men off. Dorrance was still too small to do anything but defend himself, so he could only ignore the inmates with Melisande while giving her an apologetic look.

One night Talia, her mother had finally named her, was particularly fussy. She would settle down for few minutes but anytime one of the kept inmates cried out in pain, she would start again. Melisande was shivering with exhaustion, but when Dorrance offered to enter the cell and rock the child so she could sleep, she would refuse.  Late into the night Melisande began to hum and then speak melodically to the baby. This was another new sound for Dorrance.

When the baby finally settled down, Dorrance asked in a hushed tone, "What was that?"

Melisande turned to him and smiled faintly, "My singing isn't that terrible." Her smile fell at his expression, "Surely you've heard singing before."

Dorrance shook his head, "I'd read about it."

The next day, after sleeping most of the morning Dorrance asked Mihai why no one ever sang in the Pit. "Because," Mihai replied, "there is nothing good to sing about."

"Some of the men are happy."

"Yes. The bullies and the ones who thrive in acts of cruelty." Mihai scowled, " Bad people don't sing Dorrance."

"How do you know?"

"My mother told me."

After that, Dorrance made a point of getting Melisande to teach him how to sing. He was, apparently, very bad at it but he kept trying anyway.

 

When the child was just learning to walk and was babbling incessantly Dorrance asked Mihai if she could have Osito, his old stuffed bear. Mihai had gifted it to him before he was allowed out of the cell to explore. Mihai glanced at the treasured toy, "Yes, he can have it, but he's not to leave his mother's cell."

"Of course not. He's far too little. But he's started walking and I want to give him something to celebrate."

"Alright then. Give it to him if you'd like."

When Dorrance gave the teddy bear to Melisande, he told her of the adventures they'd had together and all the tight corners Osito was able to save him from. When she realized that there was a knife hidden within the stuffing she said tightly, "Thank you Dorrance. But I think I will give it to him when he's a little older so he will know not to cut himself. Alright?"

Dorrance was disappointed that the child could not play with the bear now, but he smiled when, the next day Osito was nestled in a place of honour on the ledge next to Melisande's Qua-ran.

 

When Talia was able to talk and learn languages Dorrance attacked the task with fervor. So much so that Mihai laughed at Talia's speech which was a pidgin combination of Arabic, Spanish, French and English for the most part, with a bit of Swahili and Portugese thrown in for certain words. It was the first time Mihai had laughed in a long time.

"Dorrance," Mihai's eyes were shining with mirth, "The child needs to learn the languages, but not all at once."

"But there are so many. I want to make sure he is prepared."

"Patience, boy. There is time." He patted a despondent Dorrance on the shoulder, "Speak to him like his mother in Maghrebi and perhaps in French and then have _lessons_ in the other languages. The way you're doing it is too much. I can hardly keep track of the languages he switches between them so much." Mihai chuckled.

 "I just want to help him."

 Mihai's smile softened, "Yes. But help him slowly."

 

One evening while Talia slept nestled in Melisande's cot, Dorrance asked, "Melisande, many years ago I told you why I was sent here. Why are you here?"

Melisande was silent for some time but Dorrance was not worried she would not answer him. He had come to learn her different kinds of silence. Eventually she said, "I loved a man. My father, who was very powerful, did not approve of him and was going to have him put to death. I pleaded with my father and took my beloved's place and was sent here."  Dorrance fidgeted with the _cheich_ he wore around his face and head like the other men of the Pit. It was fraying in parts and needed a wash."The man that I loved," Melisande continued, "was Talia's father." She ran her fingers through the short fluff of Talia's hair, "I had hope he would come and take me away from here. But not any longer."

"Do you think he is dead?"

"Perhaps. He was exiled from my father's land before I was sent here, so he may not even know of my plight. I came here because of Talia too. We were unmarried and I was pregnant. Though I imagine my lover would have welcomed our child into this world, my father would have been very angry. My brothers more so, though. So, in some ways, the only escape for us both was the Pit."

Dorrance ran a scarred knuckle over one of Talia's arms. "Does that make you dislike Talia?" Dorrance hated his father.

Melisande looked at him then and said very quietly, "Talia is from my body. She is my _child_. I can do nothing but love her."

 

When it was time for Talia to learn to read, Dorrance taught her from as many of Mihai's books as they could get through. The doctor seemed eager to be rid of them, so many of them ended up in Melisande's cell. Talia's favourite was "Just-So Stories", though she enjoyed anything with animals in it. Melisande taught her how to read Arabic through the Qua-ran and Dorrance loved those lessons best; Arabic was one language he was unable to read. The Arabic spoken in the Pit, the Maghreb, wasn't like the written language and it was fascinating listening to Melisande's voice wind through the text in a way that sounded strangely formal. In the evenings when they could afford to have a fire, they would sit and read to one another with Talia bundled in Melisande's lap wrapped in the _djalleba_ , the hooded cloak Melisande wore on chilly nights.

"Will you teach me how to talk like you and Mateo, Dorrance?" Talia asked on one of those nights.

"No, _ves'tacha_." Dorrance replied with a smile.

"Why not?" Talia squirmed out of her mother's lap and started jabbering in an approximation of Romanes, then said "Was that it? I want to learn it."

"No Talia."

"Why not? You teach me all those other things."

"Because it is only for Mateo and I."

"That's not fair."

Melisande cut in, "Talia would you like Dorrance to read to you from Kipling again."

"Ooo yes. Read me the one about how the elfunt got a trunk." Talia settled back into her mother's lap and Dorrance obliged.

Later, after Talia had fallen asleep, Melisande touched Dorrance's arm through the bars of her cell, "Talia didn't mean anything by it, I'll explain to her so she doesn't ask you again." Melisande smiled, "You know what she's like when she gets an idea into her head."

Dorrance smiled, "I don't mind. I'm just glad she wants to know things."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in the Pit.

_"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them."_

_-Desmond Tutu_

 

Mihai hung himself while Dorrance was away on an errand.

Dorrance cut the doctor's body down, laid him on his cot and went to Melisande. "Mihai is dead."

"Who?" Melisande put down her Qua-ran

"Mateo. His name is Mihai. I called him Mihai. He's dead. I'm not supposed to say his name. Because he's dead." Dorrance wrapped his arms around himself, "And I shouldn't even be telling you his Roma name. You're _gadje_. But you're….You're my family and he's dead. And I don't know why he did it." He dug his fingers into his ribs.

Melisande hobbled over to him. Dorrance collapsed against the bars, Melisande's hands were on his face, his neck. "What did he do? Dorrance?"

Dorrance screwed his eyes shut, "He killed himself. Hung himself. You shouldn't do that. Why would he do that?"

Melisande was silent for a moment, then she said, "Sometimes people become filled with a sadness that will not go away." She held him through the bars and he relished the feeling of her hands, warm and alive. She murmured, half to herself, "I had noticed he was looking unwell, but I didn't think it would be this bad."

"He wasn't sick." Dorrance looked at her, his eyes stung with tears and his chest hurt, "He took his own life. He chose to do it."

"Dorrance. It's not…" Melisande shook her head, "Sometimes sorrow, a sickness of the soul can drive a person to such acts."

"But why? Things have been good here. There is food and water and we have had a fire for days and days now. Why was he sad? I do not understand."

"Oh, Dorrance." Melisande kissed his forehead, "You have never been anywhere else. I pity you...that you've never had the sun on your face and seen birds and flowers and clouds," her eyes were so very sad. "But _habibi_ I envy you too. You can't even imagine what the loss of such things can do to a person."

"I lost him. I feel loss now."

"I know."

 

The supplies were lowered the following day, the doctor had timed his suicide well. Dorrance told the guards at the surface that their doctor was dead and they needed a new one. There was a yelled conversation and then the men who lowered the supplies went away. 

           

Dorrance made his home in an alcove by Melisande and Talia's cell. After a week of doing this Melisande asked, "Dorrance why won't you sleep in Mateo's cell?"

Dorrance shuddered at the use of the doctor's name, "I cannot be where he died."

Melisande did not press but she did provide him with blankets and a mat to sleep on. On nights when he cried, she sang to him and stroked his back through the bars.

           

After the doctor's suicide, things were difficult. Tensions were running high now that there was no one to treat the inmates' injuries and diseases. Dorrance collected some antibiotics and some painkillers for Melisande. The inmates swarmed and consumed what remained in the cell. Like animals they lacked the good sense to conserve the drugs and many of them just used the opiods recreationally, celebrating what they thought was the death of a tyrant. They suffered when the drugs ran out and they underwent withdrawal symptoms. In their weakness, they were swooped upon and assaulted.

At nineteen, Dorrance was tall and strong, but did not have the impressive bulk and advertising swagger that the top dogs of the prison possessed to keep their underlings in check. What Dorrance did have was stealth, a quick mind and very good health. The gangs of men who dominated the prison with their brutality were infested with venerial infections. They shared the broken men they subjugated and they shared their diseases amongst themselves. The Roma doctor had gone to great lengths to inform Dorrance of the various diseases going around the Pit and so Dorrance had abstained from carnal pleasures that required more than his own hand. The doctor had possessed medicine to keep the worst of the symptoms at bay for the men who could barter with him, but this was a prison after-all and they did not receive the best medication.

Without the doctor, the rough men's symptoms came back making them irritable and prone to more violence, but also ailing and sluggish.  When they did try to take Dorrance, who now was without the doctor's protection, they were not in their best form. They found, the hard way, that Dorrance was not some soft child. Even before the doctor had died, Dorrance had killed inmates who had come after him. With the blade hidden in Osito, Dorrance had dealt damage to the lower caste men who had attacked him. Now, Dorrance put all of his years of knowledge to use in the frequent scuffles he was forced to persevere. The doctor had taught him about nerves and where they were clustered, how they could be struck to cause pain. When bones needed to be set, the doctor described how the injury was made and how much force must have been used. Dorrance knew how to break bone so that it would not heal. He knew how fragile the spine was in the cervical vertebrae of the neck.  He knew where the major blood vessels were and how quickly a person could bleed out.

Dorrance never started these fights; he had no desire to climb the prison hierarchy and he had Melisande and Talia to think of. The men at the top were unintelligent brutes and he did not want their company. Dorrance simply wanted to be left alone. He wanted Talia and Melisande to be left in peace. He felt like warden, constantly chasing away the scavengers who tried to reach through the bars to touch the woman. He always won his fights, but on several occasions he was forced to take up Melisande's offer to sleep inside of her cell, he was so tired and hurt. Talia would insist on helping Melisande tend to his injuries and then cuddle with him on his sleeping mat until morning. 

Over time, Dorrance became less intent on purely defending himself and more focused on sending a message. He dispatched the lesser attackers quickly but with a brutality that bordered on the theatrical. But the bigger men, the gang leaders who sent the underlings after him, Dorrance picked off in the dark, in private. And he made sure to butcher their bodies. There was an expression among the inmates " _A wise man needs only a nod, the ass a fist._ " It seemed the prison was full of asses.

 

Dorrance had returned from an errand to find another ass pressed against the bars of Melisande's cell. Melisande was pressed against the far wall with Talia behind her. Her _shayla_ was gone. It was one of the few times Dorrance had seen her hair since she birthed Talia and it startled him for a moment. When Dorrance assessed that the inmate was alone, he cleared his throat. The inmate flinched. When he turned, he paled and tried to tuck himself back into his trousers. Melisande's _shayla_ was in his fist. Dorrance was silent as he slammed the fool, a man named Shia, into the bars. Melisande, who normally did not approve of violence in front of Talia said nothing as Dorrance stomped on both of the man's hands. Shia, was the only person speaking as Dorrance rained blows onto his face, the _cheich_ was becoming sodden and red. It was not until other inmates came, hearing the commotion that Dorrance slowed his attack. By then, Shia was a whimpering, bloody thing. Dorrance stood, picked Shia by the scruff of his tunic and threw him towards in gathering crowd. Shia's friends, what little he had, would maybe try to patch him up. If his injuries were too severe, they may leave him to the Pit. Dorrance felt no need to explain his actions to the onlookers; Shia's dick was still hanging from his trousers, though his erection was long gone. Dorrance simply leveled them a cold glare and waited for their dispersal before turning.

He gingerly picked up Melisande's, now filthy, _shayla_. He proffered it to her and she shook her head violently and looked away without a word.

 

Later that night Talia whispered to him, "Dorrance?"

Dorrance rolled over on his sleeping mat, "Yes little one?"

"Dorrance, Maman won't talk to me. Did I do something bad?"

"No. She won't talk to me either."

The moon was nearly full and so there was some light within the Pit. Dorrance could see the way Talia chewed on her lip, "Is it because of that man?"

"Yes."

Talia shuffled to lie on the ground near him. Her arm stretched out through the bars and he held her small hand. "Dorrance?"

"Yes?"

"The man. He…." Talia paused seemingly to rally her thoughts. Dorrance did not want to talk about Shia. "Do you have the same thing in your trousers? Like the man?" Dorrance closed his eyes, this was something Melisande must tell her, not him. "Dorrance?"

"Yes. Yes, I have the same thing." When Talia did not reply, Dorrance let go of her hand, eager to end the conversation.

Talia gripped at his sleeve though. "I don't have that. I'm not like him. Or you." She paused, "And when I go pee pee, I do it like Maman. I sit. When you go, I've seen you sometimes, in the morning when Maman is still asleep. You stand when you go." Dorrance swallowed as the gears of Talia's mind turned. "I am like Maman." Talia concluded. Dorrance said nothing. "But she calls me _habibi_ , if I am like her, it should be _habibti_. Why did she lie? Why does she call me her little boy? Why did you lie?"

"Talia." Dorrance sighed, "Has your mother ever left your cell?" Talia shook her head. "But sometimes I used to take you out. Why do you think I could do that?"

"Because you protect me." She said this with such conviction that Dorrance found himself wishing that it were the case.

"No, _ves'tacha_. Even if I had every weapon in this place, I could not protect your mother if she left her cell."

Talia was quiet for some time, her fingers traced Dorrance's nose and cheekbones through his  _cheich_. She said finally, "Because she is a woman?"

"Yes. But why can you leave? If you are like her, a girl?"

"Because they think I am a boy?"

"Yes. Because they think you are a boy."

"Why did you lie, though? Why did you not tell me?"

Dorrance shrugged a shoulder. "You were young and we did not want you to make a mistake."

Talia pouted, "I can keep a secret. You thought because I was too little…"

Dorrance pressed a finger to her lips, "It is not an easy thing to remember. When you were very little even _I_ sometimes forgot." She seemed mollified by his admission. He continued, "Besides, your Maman did not want to explain to you _why_ the men have to believe you are a boy."

"Why? Why does it matter that Maman is a girl?"

His brow furrowed in an effort to pick his words carefully, "You know, when men come down? And the other men hurt them at night?" Talia nodded, "They want to do that to your Maman."

Talia frowned, "But why? Maman is good. Why do they want to hurt her?"

"Because they want to, Talia. They are not good men."

In the darkness, Talia fumbled for his hand again and he let her hold it. 

 

Over the next few days Melisande was quiet. She had Dorrance dispose of her _shayla._ She only had the one and now her hair remained uncovered. About a week later, Melisande took her copy of the Qu’ran down from her shelf. Her face was ashen and beneath her eyes there were dark circles. "Give me your hand." When Dorrance hesitated, she said sharply, "Give it to me." He slipped one of his hands between the bars of her cell and she pressed it to the book's worn cover, "Promise me, promise me you will care for Talia if I cannot."

He tried to pull his hand away and she held him fast, "Melisande. What is wrong?" Suddenly he was worried that Melisande would die too, like the doctor.

"Promise me Dorrance. If I cannot feed her, you give her food. If there is no water find her some. Protect her."

"I'll protect both of you."

"No." She shook her head vehemently, "Protect _her_. Always protect her. I can't bear the thought of her light being snuffed out. Not by this place. Not by these men."

"But you…?"

"She is my child Dorrance. My child! And you will help her live, do you understand?"

"Yes." He was a little afraid of Melisande then. She had never held his gaze with such ferocity. He was reminded of Talia's birth, reminded of the way Melisande had clutched. He contemplated agreeing simply to placate her. Surely she must know how much they both meant to him, he would protect both of them until he died, but there was a phantom pain in his palm at the thought of lying to her while pressed against her holy book so he said "Yes Melisande. I swear to you, I will protect her."

She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and he stared back. Then she nodded and released his wrist. "Good. Thank you." She put the Qua-ran aside, "Thank you Dorrance."

 

Finally a new doctor was lowered down with fresh supplies. The inmates watched Dorrance as the new doctor got set up, expecting him to try to ingratiate himself with the man. Dorrance had no desire for more companionship. He had Melisande and Talia, a handful of the older inmates who never caused him trouble and that was all he needed.

 

"Melisande." Dorrance said laying in his alcove. The new doctor had demanded to have the key to Melisande's cell and so Dorrance could no longer sleep in there when he felt unwell.

"Yes, Dorrance."

"I have been unable to eat all day."

Melisande shifted in the dark, "You should see the doctor."

"He's an incompetent."

"Well, there is not much else you can do." Dorrance rolled over but said nothing. "Do you feel sick?" she asked, "Like you will vomit?"

"No." Dorrance sighed, "I just can't eat. I see food and I don't want it."

Melisande was quiet for such a long time Dorrance thought she'd fallen asleep. "You could be distressed. I'm surprised you are just feeling it now."

"What do you mean 'distressed'?"

"When things are hard, your body reacts strangely. Sometimes you cannot eat. Or you cannot sleep. Your chest feels tight. Worry."

"Stress you mean? I don't understand. The past years have been _hard_. I was able to eat well enough."

"Perhaps it is catching up with you. You were distracted with just moving along, you did not have time to worry."

Dorrance grunted in annoyance. "I still have enemies. I still need to be strong."

"Yes and to do that you need to rest."

"I cannot." He shifted closer to Melisande and lowered his voice, "I'm worried about Talia. She's getting older."

"Yes."

"What will we do when she becomes a woman?"

"I do not know, Dorrance." Melisande sounded weary.

"I do not like how the doctor looks at you."

"Neither do I, but he brings me pain medication and checks on Talia when you ask him to"

"I don't like how he looks at her either." Dorrance crossed his arms, "I spoke to him when he first came, you know. I told him about what we all agreed on about Talia. How she was supposed to be called a boy. I worry that he'll forget."

"Why?" Melisande's voice was sharp.

"He's never sober. The morphine was all gone after a month. He drinks all the spirits anyone trades with him. His hands shake."

"Well, try not to get hurt."

"Yes." They sat in silence for a long time before Dorrance said, "I do not like him having your key."

"Neither do I."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cell-door is left ajar.

 

"Let the fear of a danger be a spur to prevent it; he that fears not, gives advantage to the danger."

Benjamin Disraeli

 

 

It was only a matter of time before the new doctor left Melisande's cell door unlocked. Talia had been coughing and at Melisande's insistence, the doctor had come to see the girl.

Melisande never called for Dorrance when the men harassed her, so when Dorrance heard Melisande scream his name, he froze in terror for a moment. Then he ran. By the time he reached Melisande's cell then men had swarmed her. Talia had jumped into the fray bearing Osito's knife, the blade already bloody. Dorrance scooped Talia up and strode away.

Melisande did not call after him. She did not cry for his aid, but the sound of her pleas to the men broke his heart as he left her there. He did not cry as he held Talia close to him, far away from Melisande's cell. He did not dare. Not with Talia clinging to him and shaking.

 

Hours later, long after Melisande had gone quiet, Talia said, "I want Maman."

" _Ves'tacha_ you cannot see your Maman."

"Why not?"

"Your maman is dead."

Talia stilled in his arms. "No." She pulled back to look at him, "The doctor can take care of her and make her well."

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened, "Why didn't you save her?"

"I could not-"

"You're lying. You could have saved her." Talia began to struggle in his arms.

"No. No I could not."

"You are a coward. You were just too afraid to help her."

"Please, stop struggling."

"I wish you were dead and not my Maman."

He didn't want to hurt her, but she had no compunctions about injuring him. She bit his forearm and squirmed out of his grasp. Dorrance panicked as she ran off, she could not go back to their cell. Just because her mother's cries had stopped did not mean the men were gone. Fortunately, Talia wormed herself into a crevice. It was too narrow for Dorrance to squeeze through, but when he held a light to the entrance he saw that it did not lead to anywhere. No one could get to Talia and he had to content himself with guarding the entrance until she felt ready to come out. In the middle of the night while he was still on guard, he heard sobbing from the rock.

The next morning Talia squeezed out of the rock crevice. Her eyes were wide and slightly glazed, "I am sorry." She crawled into his lap and he held her. "I didn't mean it," she murmured into his chest. He kissed her head.

He carried her as he looked for an empty cell to move into. He could not live in Talia's cell. The cell he eventually found was far from the entrance of the Pit. It was dark and smelled stagnant, but it was hidden away.

 

Talia insisted on going back to her mother's cell. Dorrance was relieved that Talia's mother had not been left in the cell's entryway to decay (erhaps the doctor felt some remorse for his negligence). Dorrance had seen death. But seeing Talia's mother after the men had her would be more than even he could bear. He wanted his memory of her to be as she was in life: vibrant and smiling and whole. The floor had not been cleaned though and Dorrance averted his gaze.

Dorrance had no desire to take anything from the cell, but Talia wanted some of the small things the men had left when they raided. They took the Qua'ran the only book that remained in the cell. The men were at least respectful enough not to steal such a book for kindling. Talia opened a few nooks and took a small jeweled box. They were also able to find food and water hidden away and so they took those as well. When she was ready to go, they left the cell and brought everything to the new smaller cell.

Dorrance stole back some of the things Talia's mother had owned over the months. The pots and grate for cooking. But most of his time was devoted to tending to Talia. She did not speak much for a long time and she slept often. There were far fewer books in The Pit now and Dorrance had to teach Talia from memory. Dorrance taught her anatomy and how to deal damage to an opponent. They worked through math problems together. The lessons seemed to draw Talia out, those and the fires they managed to build when they had enough wood to scrape together.

On nights when a new man was lowered into the Pit who was not strong enough to fight the inmates off, Talia would not sleep. Dorrance would tell her stories he remembered. The Just-So Stories and any poems he could remember. He didn't dare try to sing for her.

 

Nearly a year after the men took Talia's mother away, the girl woke him one night shaking his shoulders, panicked. "Dorrance."

Dorrance was awake instantly, he rolled on top of her, shielding her body, "What is it? What is wrong?" They had traps set up by the door in case anyone tried to sneak in on them during the night.

"Dorrance, my stomach hurts."

Dorrance huffed in relief. " _Ves'tacha,_ you scared me."

"It hurts a lot."

"It can't be that bad."

"I've never felt this before."

Dorrance frowned, he remembered the way Talia's mother would rub the girl's stomach when it was upset. He held out his had to her, "Tell me where."

She pulled his hand down to the very edges of her torso, just above her pubic bone. "There. It really hurts."

Dorrance frowned but rubbed the spot gently but firmly. "Is it so bad?" Dorrance asked. Talia nodded "It will pass. It was probably something you ate."

In the morning Dorrance rose before Talia, he stroked the soft fuzz on her head and went to prepare a meal for them. Talia shifted behind him, rousing. Dorrance heard her gasp and swung around. Talia's pants were stained with blood. The sheets had a large spot of blood where Talia had slept.

"Dorrance?" Talia's voice was quiet but the fear was palpable. "What is wrong with… am I dying?"

"No." Dorrance went over to her and covered her mouth, "Hush. No. You are not dying." He wanted to swear. He wanted to throw things around the room. Finally, the inmates were willing to leave Talia alone, believing so thoroughly that she was a boy and now this. Now this thing that marked her truly as a woman. He wanted to rage, but it would do no good to frighten Talia further who looked on the verge of a panic attack. He said quietly, "Talia, _ves'tacha._ Hush. Don't cry." He thumbed at her tears.

When he removed his hand from her mouth she said, "What does it mean? Why am I bleeding?"

Dorrance sighed, "It means that you are becoming a woman." There was no point in lying.

Talia's eyes widened. "And they will do…Maman? They… Dorrance. Don't let them." She began to shake violently. "They will know. They will know and they…"

Dorrance gathered her up in his arms. "They will not know. They will not. I will take care of you Talia, always. As long as I breathe, I will take care of you. And you will be strong. I will protect you _ves'tacha._ " She nodded, but the shaking didn't stop for some time. 

Eventually, Talia stripped her pants and they blotted the bedding with rags as best they could. He told her that they would have to wash the bedding in the evening, when it was dim and no one would notice the blood stain.

They were fortunate that was the only night she bled for that cycle. The second time, months later was the same. They followed the same pattern, Talia would begin to get cramps and that night she would bleed. They would put down extra scraps of cloth for her and burn them the next time they had a fire. This was partly to destroy the evidence and partly to save Dorrance from having to wash the bedding and the clothes with Talia's menstrual blood on it.

It was the seventh or eighth time, over two years after the death of Talia's mother, that things went bad. They had counted on Talia's body being predictable. Instead, she had bled for three days consecutively and Dorrance had been unable to procure extra fabric for her.

The sheets needed to be washed.

It was near dawn when they went to the water where the inmates washed their clothing. When she was in her cycle, Dorrance would not let her out of his sight. Now, at the water, Ibrahim, one of the gang leaders was there. He was watching his new kept-men do his washing. Dorrance paused, considered turning back and doing the bedding later, but Ibrahim spotted him.

"Dorrance." Ibrahim called out. "I'm surprised you don't have that boy doing your washing." Ibrahim gestured and one of his gang members snatched the bundle of fabric allowing to spill into the muck near the watering hole. Talia's grip tightened then relaxed. "Looks like you'll have your work cut out for you." Ibrahim smiled nastily.

Dorrance went to pick up the bedding quickly, but Ibrahim's foot stopped him. "What is this here?" he toed at a blood stain on the sheet, "You holding out on us friend? Trying to keep him tight and all for yourself?" The men around chuckled. The laughter stopped when one of the other men held up one of Talia's soiled pants, the blood spread over the crotch and on the inner thighs of them. Ibrahim frowned, "I doubt he would even be able to stand if he lost this much blood friend?" Dorrance tensed as Ibrahim considered Talia. "He really is a pretty boy, you know." Ibrahim's hand went out to touch Talia's cheek. Dorrance surged forward and knocked him back. One of the men helped Ibrahim up, "In fact," Ibrahim continued as he rubbed at his jaw "I'd say he's too pretty to be a boy of what fourteen, fifteen now? Looks just like his mother in fact. Spitting image." There was a nasty glint in Ibrahim's eye; the ruse was done for. Ibrahim's men must have begun to understand because they advanced on Talia, she managed to slash the face of one of the men and Dorrance knocked the other's down, crushing their windpipes with his foot. Then he took hold of Talia's hand and ran.

Ibrahim was calling after them, "Come back here with that bitch, Dorrance!"

The other inmates were rousing as they ran. "Where are we going?" Talia asked.

"The wall."

"But you said…"

"Do you want to die like your maman?" he snapped. It was a cruel thing to say, but he needed the fear of death to snap at her heels. "You. Will. Climb it."

"Maman just didn't know how to fight." Talia was beathing heavily, her eyes wide, "I can fight with you."

"No. You can't _ves'tacha."_

 Dorrance did not have the same leverage the Roma doctor had and he had no cell to lock Talia in. So, Dorrance offered her the only thing he could: freedom.

He shoved Talia up onto the dais, turning quickly to dispatch some attackers who'd gotten too close. Talia was staring up at the wall; he had never allowed her to be so close. Dorrance grabbed her and pushed her up, "Go! Climb!" Talia scrambled away from his outstretched arms. Others came to pull her down and he fought them off. Pebbles rained down on them as he struggled against the mob. Dorrance’s knuckles were splitting from the blows. Someone dragged his _cheich_ down and he peered up one last time to see his Talia. She was staring down at him, her expression cool. Good, she needed to be calm when death welled up beneath her. "Good bye!" Dorrance called out.

Now it was out of his hands. Either she would make the jump, spring the way he'd taught her to or she would fall and if she were lucky, die on impact. He did not hear her fall and a flicker of a smile graced his face as he heard the men cry out in rage.

Dorrance tried hard to stay on his feet. In his head, the old doctor's words rang clear " _If a man fall once, all will tread on him._ "

 

Grit sliced into the raw patches on his palms and knees. Their breaths were hot on the back of his neck as they growled invectives against his skin, as they rutted within him. They beat him like he had done Shia: until breathing was a trial and his face felt warm and wet with blood. Something had cracked in his jaw. Something had cracked in his back. They kicked him if he attempted to crawl from them and so he stopped trying.

When they were done, several of them, pinned him down, Ibrahim was among them. Dorrance saw the hot blade coming at him and he didn't struggle. Death was preferable, welcome. That thought was chased out his head as they pried his naked legs apart, he tried to shift in their grasp, but pain made his thoughts sluggish. He thrashed when anguish burned through him as they sawed at his genitals. He had never made a sound like that in all his life. He had never heard a sound like that in his life.

 

There was darkness, stone and packed earth beneath him that scraped his skin as he breathed. His throat felt blistered.

There were coarse sheets beneath him as he lay on his back. Pain sat heavily on his nose and mouth, smothering him. The new doctor dripped tepid water into Dorrance's mouth until he swallowed.

The new doctor kept Dorrance's face heavily gauzed. It made it hard to breathe. It pressed painfully against the warped cartilage of his nose and his fractured sinuses.

The new doctor removed stitches from between Dorrances legs and bandaged him.

The new doctor sent him back to general population because he needed the bed and there was nothing else to be done.

 

Some of the men, those who had never harassed Talia’s mother and did not chase after Talia kept Dorrance alive. They gave him clean water and what food they could spare.

In those days Dorrance looked up at the entrance of the Pit, that bright circle of hope and wished that he had the strength to climb like Talia had. For the first time in his life with no one to care for, with no one to speak to, he despaired.

In those dark days he often imagined what had become of his Talia. He pictured her doing things he had read about: going to beaches with white soft sand. He imagined her driving in automobiles or visiting a zoo. He imagined her becoming married and having children who would go to school and would live in safety. Dorrance kept Talia’s name fresh in his mind. She would not become nameless with death like the old doctor and Dorrance's mother and Talia's mother. His mind curled around Talia's and it kept his soul warm. He would always remember her name.

The men who did this to him were still alive and he cursed them when he had the strength: " _Te_ _bisterdon tumare anava_ ". Over and over again he would whisper it directed at the men who had murdered Talia's mother and had tried to snuff out Talia. He mouthed it silently when the men came for him again on some nights; when they pushed him into the dirt, hurt him again and again, when they groped him and spit on him and tore his insides. He whispered it to the men who boasted of their atrocities.

_May your names be forgotten._

 

End of Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to make mention of Wisky's "Stiffen the Sinews" and "Hold Fast" as inspiration for life in the Pit and post-Pit Bane. If you haven't read these two I highly recommend them. 
> 
> Thanks to my mum who beta'd this and was available to bounce medical ideas.


End file.
